Chocobo Race
by neko-chan1
Summary: [AU, involves AC] [SxC] The war is done but not over, and Cloud waits for the two other generals to make their way home. It's a fast journey.


Chocobo Race

Major AU warning – this is FF VII, and mentions some FF AC people, but it is still AU as hell, and it comes no explanations offered… I don't mind not writing out everything. smacks self

Hmmm… I was reading Twig's "A Long, Hard Road" while writing this, so it might've influenced it.. I don't think any plagiarism occurred, but if it did just tell me and I'll remove it. (The fic, that is.)

Strangely enough, this FF VII fic used to be part of a much bigger FF VII fic, which explained a lot of what is taken for granted here. However, when I gave it to someone to read-through, she said it would do much better as a single, isolated fic, and I tried it out, and WOW. It does much better this way… I'm a bit surprised at myself. This goes to show why you need fic-writer-reader friends. Also, the explanation for events, so to speak, is part of the longer fic, which will hopefully also be released.

This is dedicated to Alexiel, the person who put up with my ficcy-blues, and suggested the Big Cut.

As he stood on the cliff, motorcycle parked like a sleek black cat next to him, the nearest lot of troops at least fifty meters away, he noticed the dust of chocobos approaching long before he heard the thundering of their feet. They kicked up rust-red and sand-yellow in the blue sky, and the steady thumps of their tread sounded like the beating of a giant heart, but he squinted when trying to make out a figure seated on the giant bird.

He thought of riding out to meet him, but dismissed the idea. _He'd want to come all the way by himself,_ he reasoned. _And who's to say that that wouldn't be better?_

But when the dust clouds grew large enough to cloud his vision and the footsteps shook the ground beneath him, Cloud raised his hand in a vague motion of acceptance and happiness and the metal of his sword caught the light and refracted it into a million pathways. To the other man, crouched against the neck of his black chocobo and blinking dust from his eyes, it seemed the Sun God was flagging a station wagon to the next big miracle of life.

"Gah!" the other rider choose that moment to make a big production of coughing on the dust the black chocobo in front of him had churned, and glared at the man in front of him. "Oi! Apologise, dammit! I'm practically getting axphi- axi-.. suffocated over here!"

"Then go faster, Zack."

"That's easy for _you_ to say, you asshole! Cloud gave you that bloody bird for free!"

But Zack knew the man in front of him wasn't listening, he was focused completely on the warm-orange figure in front of them, light glinting off the cobalt-blue armour, and it pissed him off to no end. It had been two lifetimes and three wars, and their friendship had been mended more times than a housewife's apron, but that was absolutely no excuse for rude, literally dust-in-your-face behaviour!

Tossing into the wide open sky a war cry fit for desert wolves, he dug his heels viciously into his bird's flanks and raced ahead towards the command post, not more than thirty metres ahead of them, outstripping his 'opponent' by a good dozen feet in a matter of seconds, with the bird's feet still pounding -

And Cloud suddenly found himself choking and coughing, knuckles against his eyes to shade them from the dust. "Zack!" he gasped around the heaves. "You bloody bastard –"

He tried to turn to glare at the laughing figure ahead, but there was sand in his eyes and down his throat, and then suddenly a hand yanked on his arm and he grinned and let go of the ground – swinging up and about and was half-plonked, half-dumped, wind-rushing through his ears and saddle moving below him like a huge, torrid sea, to straddle the dusty chocobo's back, fingers resting on black-clad shoulders and catching stray silver strands.

"Oof!" his bones rattled for a moment from the impact, and then he heard the laughter that he'd kept inside him bubbling out until he grasped the arms around and over him for support. "Aargh!" he cried when he'd recovered enough. "Making me, The General, eat DUST! Go faster, man…" he tried to hit the chocobo's flanks, but the blow was half-hearted at best, it being a bit difficult to angle from his position.

"I'm getting to camp first if only to laugh in his face!"

He heard a chuckle from his lover, and a strong arm gripped him and curled him close. "If you say so…"

And then there was a sharp grunt and a slight bounce in the lap he was half-sitting on as strong legs suddenly slammed into the chocobo's sides, causing the bird to literally thunder against the ground, strides longer, moving faster, the world a dust-covered blur around them.

Sephiroth tightened his grip protectively and leaned closer to the chocobo's neck as the beast ate up the track to the finish line, clearly demarcated by a huge gathering of assorted military personnel and civilians, gritting his teeth as the space between him and Zack closed inch by painful inch. Cloud was curled against his chest, head bent to protect himself from the wind and dust, and he could feel the fighter's hands clenched tightly on his shoulders.

Looking down at the warrior he cradled, who was still muttering dire threats and calling curses upon Zack, Sephiroth felt vaguely out of his element. "I don't normally do this, Strife," he reminded the youth tersely. "It puts a strain on the chocobos, and you'll be washing sand out of your hair till next week…"

Cloud lifted his head, nearly hitting his chin as the chocobo went over a bump, and the bright-blue stare reminded him of a sky full of light with no clouds or sun.

"C'mon, Sephy... you were leading until he decided to pull that stunt! Let's kick his ass!" – the words turned from cajoling to energizing when paired with that steady gaze, the same determination that had lead to his death and defeat, that had earned this boy the title of hero. "And as for the chocobo…" Cloud twisted in the saddle for one moment and slapped the bird hard with the armoured back of his hand, nearly throwing himself off the saddle and making Sephiroth clutch at his arm to steady him.

"As for him… He wants to win this one, too, right?"

The bird squawked loudly in reply, and its speed suddenly doubled, flinging Cloud back onto Sephiroth's chest, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, head ducked beneath his chin again. Mentally sighing in resignation, the silver-haired general sat forward, barely gripping the bird's reins, his other hand buried in Cloud's hair. And for all his disapproval, he couldn't help but smirk at the look in Zack's eyes and the space between them drew closer.

With a growled curse, Zack turned to focus on the finishing line again, and Sephiroth dug his heels firmly into the bird's sides, snapped the reins, and thundered forward – past him – winning the race at full tilt with chocobo sweat mixing in with the dust and screams and thundering feet, and Cloud arching back to see the victory –

"Allriiiiiiiiiight! That was some entrance, man!"

"Totally rad, sir!"

"Blew my socks off, sir!"

"Don't you dare run, you owe me ten dollars! You said General Zack would win it!"

- the crowd had exploded around them as they came through, and now formed a canopy of noise around and over them, shrieks and whistles and catcalls, writhing and embracing its generals like a living being as the golden warrior raised one hand in silent triumph. It was more expression from him than many of the soldiers, old or new, had ever seen, and they cheered wildly, though only his lover was close enough to see the small smile on his face.

Zack came through only seconds later, wheeling to face them with a half-hearted attempt at the scowl already falling off his face. His own bird was big and yellow, sunny as his disposition, and he greeted Cloud with a warm though awkward hug from the chocobo's back. The other returned it as best as he could from his position, laughing something about yellow chocobos never beating black chocobos into Zack's ear, and following it up with -

"Then again, maybe you're just slow, Zack. After all, you can't even outrun a chocobo with two people on it…"

"Watch what you're saying, Strife! It was a black chocobo, and you're next to bloody _weightless_ anyway…"

Cloud felt his lover's arms instinctively tighten around him, reminding him of his brush with death just a few weeks ago. The years of living on the warfield had taken their toll, not in the body already used to a lifetime of scars and wounds, but in a spirit that had had no rest since it had first learnt the feel of a blade, and Cloud had suffered for weeks. Only with the Cetra's blessing had he managed to stay alive after he collapsed, buying Sephiroth time enough to literally beat his soul back into its body fight by excruciating fight.

And though he had made a full recovery in a matter of days, the General still worried about him, and Cloud smiled and cuddled closer to the body against his reassuringly, noting how Zack's eyes grew wide at what he had said. The black-haired man hastily tried to apologise, but Sephiroth's loud commands – food and water for the chocobos, all military personnel back to their duties, and would someone please close the gates behind them? – both silenced and subdued him. Cloud tried to lean over tell him things were okay, but the whirlwind of wartime administration and general cheering around them made it impossible to speak comforting words.

They dismounted the chocobos in relative silence. The blonde warrior turned to deal with a million problems the moment his feet touched the ground, and Sephiroth glared at every person that had scrambled close to him to gawk at the famous one-time destroyer, both of them once again in the thick of things. Zack, too, was rapidly surrounded by old lieutenants' wanting to speak to him about the cavalry and young girls clamouring for a feather from his chocobo, and got rid off them with relative difficulty, watching with a slight smile as his friends similarly tried to extricate themselves.

Within seconds, Sephiroth had already taken the camp's defenses into consideration of his next attacks against Kadaj's forces – a large group of them were gathering in the east, it was said – and he was laying down orders and new procedures for the charge that would be lead at first light, sending soldiers scurrying in all directions. Cloud was steady as ever, a veteran to battle, voice calm as he effortlessly drew up plans for the new refugee camps, plotted the locations of the new outposts, and bent to greet the new batch of youngsters come to see the famous General and run errands for the rest of them.

Cloud sighed as he finally turned to enter the command post proper, his lover silently falling into step beside him. As they walked back to camp, the friendly, jovial atmosphere started up again, seeming to crank itself out of Zack's smile and Sephiroth's silent welcome, wrapping around the noisy fussing of the camp until even the machines cranking out materia and weapons seemed to blow a little more cheerfully and Cloud felt he could relax, just a bit.

"'S okay, Zack. I know it's hard for you to accept losing."

"Gah!" the man ran a hand through his unruly hair, and glared jokingly. "I stand by what I said – you're skinny as a plucked chicken, Strife, and without Seph putting the fear of God into that poor bird it wouldn't ever had gotten past me."

"Hey, Sephy didn't – he'd never…"

"…The fear of God? And here I thought it was the rage for people to at least _try_ to be not scared of me."

The second parameter's gates were already open, a sign that someone somewhere had had too much free time, when they reached them. Tifa stood by the iron latches, ready with a storm of questions for the visitors about the children newly captured by Kadaj, and Cloud could hear in the background the sounds of troops converging for a toss-up to find out who would be riding his bike back to camp, while the factories fussed over their mechanics and the shouts of drilling and marching filled the air along with all the smells of a great, human clockwork, a fleshed-out war-machine.

A soldier came running and Cloud stepped forward to meet him, stepped forward into the thick of life in wartime, but now that the silver warrior was there the last piece of home had slotted into place.

Thank you! Thank you! Now, to leave, without any explanations… Actually, what do you think happened?


End file.
